5. Benedetto
CHAPTER FIVE
BENEDETTO
The sun was high days later as I tossed my horse’s reins to a stable hand. I used this stable when I came to Legnali, so the beast would get good care. He deserved a day of rest; we’d made good time.
On foot, I headed for the narrow streets of Legnali's merchant quarter. Tightly packed buildings lined the wide streets, all active with business. The scents of garlic, leather and hot metal mingled in the air. Chickens, penned to be sold, squawked in their cage.
The small bookshop sat tucked between a blacksmith's forge and a wine merchant's stall. It bore no sign; only people who knew what it sold before arriving were welcome past its doors.
Inside, the shop smelled of old parchment, dust, and a hint of mildew combined with the aroma of marigolds. The plats were easily spelled to repel insects, and no bookshop wanted bugs eating the stock.
Floor to ceiling shelves lined the walls, bowed under the weight of ancient tomes and obscure manuscripts, plunging the room into dim shadows.
Behind the counter stood Cassius, a small, wiry man who always reminded me of a weasel. Pale skin, brown hair slicked back into an oiled braid, and a narrow nose gave the impression of watchful nerves.
I approached and placed a gold coin on the worn wooden counter. The bookseller's gaze darted to it, his thin lips curling into a faint smile.
“d’Alvarez,” he greeted me. Francesco had introduced me to this shop before he left for his apprenticeship; I’d known Cassius for nearly two decades. The man hadn’t changed at all in that time.
If the coin was there, he would sell any book or information to anyone. I appreciated that in him and made sure I had the coin available when I frequented his shop.
"I'm looking for information on a recent sale," I said, leaning against a shelf. "A rare tome about the Sorcerer Ruin."
Cassius hesitated. “You know I don’t talk about other customers.”
I caught his eyes. “This could help me cure Francesco.”
The words dropped like stones between us. He’d known Francesco and sold him the first book my brother used to study magic. I tried not to hold it against him, but Cassius was aware of my old anger.
“My memories of you and this place are why I don’t already have my hand on your throat, Cassius. Did you sell it?”
The old man shifted away from me fractionally. "It was a rare find. I sold it a few weeks ago."
Finally, the luck breaks my way. After many dead ends, perhaps I was one step closer to finding my brother's cure - and then making his old master pay.
I focused in on Cassius, coldly noting the bead of sweat that ran down his temple. "Who bought the book?"
The bookseller licked his lips, his eyes flickering from side to side. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he weighed his options.
He'll talk . They always do, in the end. I hope he doesn’t make me hurt him.
I slid another coin across the counter, letting it clink against the first. The sound hung in the dusty air between us.
"Well?" My voice was low, dangerous. "You know what I’ll do if you push me."
Cassius chewed on his lower lip. “This is for Francesco. And I don’t want to see your face in my shop ever again.”
“Talk.”
"A man," he said. "Tall, built like a warrior. Paid in full with gold stamped from Kalion's mint. I’ve heard he works for Tulliano Lucardi."
Lucardi . The name rang familiar. A notorious social climber in Legnali, always grasping for more power and influence. I kept my expression neutral, not wanting to give away my recognition.
Interesting. What are you plotting, Lucardi?
I straightened, leaving the coin onto the counter. "You've been most helpful."
The bookseller nodded curtly, leaving the coin on the counter. I turned to leave, mind racing with this new information.
Lucardi had the book. But why? What use did he have for this journal?
As I stepped out into the sunlit street, a renewed sense of purpose churned inside me. Taking the book from Lucardi should be a simple matter. Finding someone to read it might be a more complicated task, if I couldn’t...
Hold on, brother. I'll find a cure.
I proceeded to my temporary residence in Legnali. The silk trader I rented from was always happy to accommodate me, even when I’d been short on coin. He held messages for me as well, since it was well known I didn’t reside at the d'Alvarez house when I was in town.
The two-room apartment had been furnished with fresh linens and aired. The faint scent of incense lingered in the air, a pleasant combination of sandalwood and rosemary. The merchant had left a stack of invitations on the ornate desk in my room.
I sat and flipped through them, amused by my peers and their fascination with scandal. And that fact that rumor ran faster than the swiftest mount. I’d only been in town a few hours.
Hosts loved having a rogue at their parties. It gave them something to gossip about. And I was happy to add fuel to the fire whenever possible. The smoke from that blaze helped conceal my true agenda.
Two invitations in the pile caught my interest. The first, a masquerade ball hosted by none other than Tulliano Lucardi. The heavy paper was inlaid with gold flakes, glittering in the light.
How convenient of you, Lucardi. You've saved me the trouble of climbing your garden wall or seducing your wife. If you’ve gotten one recently, after all the looking you’ve done.
The second invitation was a grand dance a week later. It would serve as a good distraction, a way to flirt and gather more information. The women always knew what was going on.
A smaller note bore my mother’s seal. I tossed it aside without a second glance. I was not interested in her meddling or her reproaches. My little wife would be the happier for not interacting with me.
The sight of the seal triggered a flood of memories of Francesco and I as children. We were inseparable then, me running after him as soon as I could walk, always getting into mischief together. The time we snuck into the kitchens and nearly set the house on fire, or when we 'borrowed' Father's prized stallion for a midnight ride. Francesco's shout of laughter echoed in my ears, a sound I hadn't heard in far too long.
I failed you . Even though I hadn’t known what the apprenticeship would do to him, I should have argued that dealing with sorcerers was too dangerous. Even at fourteen, I’d known that. From the lofty height of eighteen years, my brother had dismissed my worry.
My grip tightened on Lucardi’s invitation. I would not fail my brother again, no matter what it took. If nothing else, the book would give me information I lacked. Perhaps Ruin could be summoned from beyond death to deal with Moonshifter.
I snorted at the flight of fantasy, then stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the wooden floor. Visiting a bathhouse and a cookshop should be my priority right now.
A few hours later, clean and fed, I strolled to the outskirts of the town, the salty sea breeze ruffling my hair. The sun beat down mercilessly, a familiar sensation, barely noticed.
The apothecary here was of Jesnani heritage, from the northern tribes that lived north of the Renhos mountains. He always had useful information, even if it wasn’t about my target.
Jari's shop came into view, a small but well-maintained building surrounded by a wild garden. The scent of medicinal herbs hung heavy in the air, mingling with the tang of the ocean. Scarlet and emerald, Jesnani tokens hung from the trees and fluttered in the breeze.
He put them there to keep evil influences out, but they never stopped me.
I pushed open the door, a small bell announcing my arrival. Jari stood at a counter, grinding something in his pestle. He looked up from his work, his pale blue eyes meeting mine. He was tall, his skin sunburned an even dark pink. His skin looked even stranger surrounded by his hair, a light reddish blond.
A simple cotton tunic and trousers clothed his wiry frame, and his leather belt was adorned with the tanned scalps of his enemies.
No Jesnani warrior could marry without a collection of scalps. The tradition marked their victories.
"Back again, are you?" He wiped his hands on his apron, clean but stained by the plants and juices that were his work. "I thought your family being here would be the talisman to drive you away."
I laughed and approached the counter. "Not even that potent ward could keep me away. Have you heard any more rumors about where Moonshifter's lives now?"
Jari scratched his beard, his gaze drifting to the rows of drying herbs hanging from the rafters. "One of my cousins sent word. Says a giant wolf, a maneater, hunts the Ygris Pass, up in the Renhos Mountains. Sounds like Moonshifter. White as snow, even in summer, with fangs as long as a spear." He fixed me with a pointed look. "Or it could be bait."
Of course information could be a trap. But this tidbit matched a few others I’d gathered recently.
Shoving down the excitement at a lead confirmed, I forced myself to remain calm.
"Thanks, Jari," I said, tossing a small pouch of coins onto the counter. "For your trouble, though I won’t say no to more of your hangover sure."
Jari nodded, pocketing the payment. He reached behind him and pulled out a handful of twists of paper. He packaged the hangover remedy in them, so you used as much as was needed each time. "I’ve seen your wife around town, d’Alvarez. She’s a lovely thing. Maybe you should find more hobbies."
Flicking my fingers in dismissal of his words, I left the shop.
Odd he’d mentioned the girl. He wasn’t the type to find unripe fruit attractive.
Lost in thought, I nearly collided with someone. "Benedetto? Is that you?"
I looked up, startled out of my reverie. "Silas?"
Silas Valiades, an old acquaintance from school, stood before me. He was shorter than me, with curly light brown hair cropped short and a tanned complexion. His clothing, though subtly mended, was still well-made.
The Valiades clan had lost several ships over the past year, causing significant financial trouble for them.
"It's been a while," he said, a smile on his face but a glint of challenge in his eyes. "It’s been a bit of a day for me already. I need a fight to clear my head. If you've still got that famous speed, would you care for a friendly fencing bout?"
I didn’t hesitate. A good bout would help clear my head too. "Lead the way."
Legnali had several training yards catering to the tourist population. We made our way to the nearest, only a short walk away.
Both of us stripped down to our shirts, stretching and limbering our wrists. I saluted him, raiding my blade.
“Ready?”
He grinned and saluted back, then circled to the left.
After a few easy strikes I fell into the familiar rhythm, muscle memory guiding my movements. Silas lunged, I parried, I feinted, he took the bait.
Pulling short of touching him, I shook my head, “Your guard was weak there.”
He snorted. “I let you through.”
I laughed and bowed. "So generous of you.”
But as the practice bout continued, Silas pressed harder, his strikes becoming more aggressive. I narrowed my focus on the flow of the fight.
Magic slid over Silas; he was using it to improve his speed. Not to a point where I needed to respond, but it was strange he was doing it in a friendly match.
I launched a quick attack, a low feint followed by a lunge at his chest. His move to parry my feint opened his guard and he barely recovered and dodge my deliberately slow lunge. Still, it maneuvered him until the sun was in his eyes.
Unless this turned into a killing match, I wouldn’t use my magic.
"You've improved," Silas panted, wiping sweat from his brow and squinting.
I grinned, disarming him with a flourish. "The world isn't kind to the slow."
Silas retrieved his blade, a determined set to his jaw. We engaged again, blades clashing in a dance of steel. His smile faded, replaced by a grim determination.
Relaxed, I held my blade the inside line, my hand palm up, awaiting his next move. He lunged, aiming for my throat.
I parried, and stepped back into position, my expression darkening. "Careful, Silas. I don't want to kill an old friend."
Silas stepped back, breathing heavily. "Just testing you."
I studied Silas's face for any hint of his intentions. Why the sudden aggression?
"Thanks for the bout," I sheathed my rapier. "But I have other matters to attend to."
Silas nodded once, sheathing his blade as well, his expression unreadable. "Of course. Until next time, Benedetto."
We clasped forearms and walked in opposite directions. I filed the encounter away, adding it to the growing list of things that didn't sit right.